


Right Now

by zeigharry (mariawritesstuff)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, No Smut, Sadly, Songfic, and i thought of a music video for it, and voilà!, basically i really like this song, but oh well, then made said music video into a fic, zarry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 11:22:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariawritesstuff/pseuds/zeigharry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oneshot based on the One Direction song, 'Right Now'. I don't wanna do a summary because I don't wanna give it away :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right Now

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote a thing based on the song, "Right Now" and, yeah. Here it is! The bits between the Asterix(es?) are events from the past, just so you know.

Zayn took a deep breath and stepped onto the stage in the local pub. It was his first night performing in the past six months. He simply hadn’t been able to do it. Not since The Incident. Not since the thing had happened between him and his musical partner/best friend. Not since they’d fucked it all up. But now, Zayn was ready. He had spent six months in solitude, which also meant six months to perfect the song. This song was his first attempt at actually expressing what he felt. And he was determined to do it right.

 

Lowering himself onto the stool at the front of the stage, Zayn took the mic in his shaky hands and brought it close to his lips as the music started playing.

 

_Lights go_

_Down and_

_The night is calling to me, yeah_

_I hear_

_Voices_

_Singing songs in the street_

_And I know_

_That we won't be going home_

_For so long, for so long,_

_And I know_

_That I won't be on my own, yeah_

* “Thank you and goodnight everybody!”

 

The crowd cheered as the duo took a bow. Harry turned to Zayn and beamed widely and Zayn couldn’t help but smile back. He slipped his fingers between Harry’s and gripped them tightly as people began to file out.

 

The pair of them had met over three years ago, when they had both auditioned for the X Factor. They didn’t get along very well back then. They had both made it to bootcamp, but neither of them had gotten further. Somehow, three years later, they bumped into each other again, this time at university. Zayn had been sitting at base of a tree, reading a book, when Harry, a bumbling first year, had come to him to ask for directions. After becoming best friends, they had formed this musical partnership with a bit of a point to prove.

 

When the pub was finally empty and the only people left were Zayn, Harry and the owner, the pair sat with their legs hanging off the stage.

“God, Zayn!” Harry exclaimed, “the rush!”

“Mm,” Zayn agreed. “Doesn’t get much better, does it?”

“No, it doesn’t. You know, when people said uni would be the best years of our lives, I never believed them. But that’s changed. And it’s all because of you.” Harry smiled genuinely at Zayn.

“Aww, well aren’t you just the sweetest thing?” Zayn cooed playfully, pulling Harry close to him. The younger boy giggled and nuzzled into the crook of his friend’s neck. The former was quite a bit taller so his neck was actually bent at an awkward angle but he didn’t seem to mind.

 

After a few silent minutes, Zayn withdrew his arm.

“I should head home. See you tomorrow, yeah?” He slipped into his jacket and headed towards the door.

“Oi!” Harry called out. Zayn turned back. “Can you hear that?”

Zayn listened carefully. There was the faint but distinct sound of singing voices audible somewhere near the pub.

“Who d’you think that is?” Harry asked, intrigued. Zayn shrugged.

“Students off their faces, probably. It’s Friday night what d’you expect?”

“Should we go find out?”

Zayn almost said no. But the mischievous glint in Harry’s eyes, coupled with the fact that he was also a little curious, caused the wrong word to fall off his tongue.

“Sure.”

Harry grinned excitedly, grabbed Zayn’s hand, and pulled him towards the back exit of the pub and into the dark alley behind.

“Jesus, Harry, don't you know to avoid dark alleys? They’re dangerous – especially in the middle of the night, like this!”

“Yeah, but what adventures aren’t?” Harry retorted. He let go of Zayn’s hand and ran in the direction of the voices, howling up at the night sky. Zayn laughed and followed him after only a moment of hesitation. He wouldn’t admit it to Harry, but he loved the idea of running, not sure where they would end up. And he especially loved running with Harry. *

 

_I love this feeling and,_

_Right now,_

_I wish you were here with me._

_Cuz right now,_

_Everything is new to me_

_You know I can't fight the feeling_

_And every night I feel it_

_Right now,_

_I wish you were here with me._

 

Zayn sucked in a long breath after belting out the chorus with as much passion as he could muster. It was then Zayn noticed one of his old friends, Louis, one of the people they used to hang out with, smiling sadly up at him from the crowd. The memories of their time together forced their way into the front of his mind and he squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to keep them at bay because _he_ was present in most of them. He kept them closed as he brought the mic back to his lips and began the next verse.

 

_Late night_

_Spaces_

_All our friends, you and me, yeah_

_Love these_

_Faces_

_Just like how it used to be_

_That we won't be going home_

_For so long, for so long,_

_And I know_

_That I won't be on my own,_

_On my own,_

* “Oi, Zayn, pass the blunt!” Louis called. Zayn handed it over to him before lying back in the damp grass. He and Harry were in an unexplored meadow with three boys they had met the night of their first gig at the pub, over four months ago. Louis, along with his flat mates, Liam and Niall, were the ones that had been singing. Harry and Zayn had found them, drunk, at the end of another alley, singing at the top of their lungs. At least, Louis was. Niall and Liam were mostly giggling happily, although Niall would occasionally join in. The fivesome hit it off instantly. At least Harry hit it off with the other three boys. Zayn took a little more time to warm up to them, but only because he wasn’t the most trusting person. But he had warmed up eventually. The meadow had become their usual spot because they could smoke and drink and be as loud as they wanted and there was nobody nearby to complain about them.

 

Zayn lifted a finger and drew a circle in the night sky, before trying to count all the stars in the circle, lips moving silently, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“What’re you doing?” Zayn felt more than heard Harry’s question against his ear. Harry was lying on his side, chin propped on his elbow as he looked down at Zayn.

“I’m counting the stars.”

Harry’s face lit up.

“Can I help?”

“No. You’ll make me lose count.”

Harry’s face fell. The older boy felt his heart tug at the sight of his friend’s crestfallen pout.

“Okay, fine,” Zayn sighed. He slipped his arm behind Harry’s head, tracing soft patterns at the base of the boy’s neck and gently tugging the little hairs there. Harry purred contentedly and shimmied closer to Zayn, resting his head on Zayn’s shoulder. Zayn rolled his eyes affectionately, turned back to the sky and started counting again. After some time, he realized Harry wasn’t even looking at the sky; he was looking up at Zayn with an absent-minded smile on his face.

“You aren’t even counting, Harry,” Zayn commented.

“Yeah, I am!” Harry protested. “You missed one.”

“Which one?”

“The one with his arm around me.” Harry’s plump lips curved into his signature, cheeky, boyish smile. Zayn laughed and pressed his lips to Harry’s forehead, pulling Harry even closer.

“Always the flirt, you are.”

Harry laughed.

“It seems to be working.”

Zayn laughed again and pulled Harry half on top of him so that he could rest his chin on top of Harry’s curls.

“I love you, Hazza,” he murmured.

“I love you too, Zed.”

“Oi, lovebirds!” Louis hollered. Zayn chuckled and rolled Harry off him, earning a mewl of discontent from the curly-haired boy. “Niall just got a text about some underground concert that The Rubies’ are having. The lads and I are going to try and find it. You guys in?”

“Nah,” Zayn said at the same time that Harry exclaimed, “hell yeah!”

The other three laughed. Harry pouted at Zayn.

“Aww, c’mon Zed! Don't be a killjoy,” he begged.

“I’m not! You can go without me.”

“But I wanna go _with_ you! I don't wanna go home alone and neither do you.”

Zayn sighed.

“Fine,” he acquiesced. “Why the hell not.”

Harry let out a triumphant cheer.

“We’ll leave early, I promise,” he murmured, linking his arm with Zayn’s and pulling him towards the other boys, who had already started walking away.

Zayn snorted.

“No, we won't. I probably won't get home until dawn”

“No,” Harry admitted, “But at least you’ll be with me!” *

 

_I’m feeling like,_

_Right now,_

_I wish you were here with me._

_Cuz right now,_

_Everything is new to me_

_You know I can't fight the feeling_

_And every night I feel it_

_Right now,_

_I wish you were here with me._

 

Zayn opened his eyes again. He could feel goosebumps rising on his skin. The memories were coming back in full force now and he couldn’t keep them back.

 

_And I could do this forever._

_And let’s go crazy together._

 

* “Tonight was incredible.”

Zayn and Harry were sat in the trunk of the Range Rover that Harry’s dad had given him for his 18th birthday. After The Rubies’ concert, they had said goodbye to their three other friends and headed off. But Harry had said that he wasn’t ready for the night to end just yet, even though it had been approaching 4am. Zayn had nonetheless complied and, instead of going home, they had gone to Harry’s rented car park space, gotten into his car and driven back to the meadow, where they could sit and eventually watch the sun rise.

“The concert? Yeah,” Zayn agreed. But Harry shook his head.

“Not just the concert, though. The whole night – performing, chilling with the lads…” Harry paused for a moment, “…you…”

Zayn smirked lazily at Harry, before lacing their fingers together. He turned back to watch as the first tendrils of orange snaked into the dewy grass in front of them.

“I could do this forever,” Harry sighed.

“Me too.”

“I love you, Zed,” Harry said quietly.

“I love you too,” Zayn replied. He considered adding, _you’re my best friend_ but he figured the other boy would already know that so he left it out.

 

But a minute later, he regretted that decision.

 

“Zed?” Harry called softly, almost hesitantly. Zayn frowned slightly. What would Harry be hesitating about? Harry _never_ hesitated. He always just went for it.

“Yeah? What is it, Haz?” Zayn urged, worried.

Harry swallowed nervously.

“I love you.”

Then, with trepidation but determination, Harry leaned forward and pressed his lips to Zayn’s. And Zayn’s mind went blank with shock. He could barely register Harry’s trembling lips on his mouth, much less process _why_ Harry’s trembling lips were on his mouth. He remained unresponsive until Harry tried to pry his lips apart with his own. Then Zayn’s body jerked back into action and he pushed Harry away forcefully.

“What the fuck, Harry?” Zayn yelled, wiping at his mouth with his sleeve. Harry’s eyes were wide with fear.

“I don't know! I don't know…I…I’m sorry, Zed, I just…”

“Just kissed me! Why the hell would you kiss me?” Zayn cried.

“I fucking told you already! I love you. I’ve loved you for a while and I just…I didn’t know what to do. And then Louis realised and he told me to just go for it and I was like, fuck it, why not, and–”

“Why not?” Zayn repeated, “maybe because I’m not gay?”

“Neither am I! Or at least I wasn’t. Not until I fell in love with you. And now I don't really know what the fuck I am.” Harry bit his lower lip and furrowed his eyebrows in the way that Zayn knew meant that he was trying not to cry. Zayn ran a hand through his hair.

“I have to go,” Zayn said curtly. He tried to release his fingers from Harry’s clasp but Harry held on tight.

“Wait, Zayn! Don't go!” he cried. “I’m sorry, I take it back! I take it all back! I don't love you. I mean I do but I don't _love_ love you. Shit, Zayn, pleased don't leave me! You’re my best friend!” the tears had begun streaming from his eyes. Zayn felt like crap. He felt like a terrible person for this but he just didn’t know how to deal with his best friend being in love with him. It wasn’t a situation in which he had ever found himself before.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Zayn shook his head, “but I can't do this. I don't want to have to be careful around you all the time, conscious of saying the wrong thing, worrying about giving the wrong impression…I just can't deal with that. And I don't want to put you through that either. So please just let me go.”

Harry nodded dejectedly, loosened his grip and dropped his hands into his lap. Zayn’s arm fell to his side. Through the corner of his eye he could see the drops of water on the blades of grass, twinkling like mini stars as the early morning rays reflected off them.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered one last time. Then he turned and ran.

 

Back in his room, Zayn fell onto his bed, suddenly exhausted from the night’s activities. But, for some reason, he couldn’t fall asleep. He lay on his back with his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling.

 

In the comfort of his bedroom, he was finally able to think through the abrupt end to the night. His eyes fluttered shut and he could feel the ghost of Harry’s mouth brushing against his own. He traced his fingers lightly over his lips. And only then did he realise – he had _liked_ it. He had actually liked the feeling of Harry’s soft, plump lips. At the time he hadn’t noticed the butterflies in his stomach, the sense of nervous anticipation, but he could remember them clearly now. And they were overwhelming.

 

And that was when it hit him. He was in love with Harry. He loved running with Harry in search of a new adventure. He loved the feeling of dangerous excitement that grew in the pit of his stomach whenever he caught the gleam in Harry’s eyes. And Harry was the only way he got to feel any of that. Harry was his adventure.

 

Zayn’s eyes flew open. He sprung off his bed, shoved his feet into his shoes and grabbed his jacket, sprinting out of flat. He ran all the way back to where he had left Harry in the meadow, no easy task considering he was tipsy, high and positively shattered.

 

But when he got there, Harry was gone. As was his car. Zayn felt sick. He doubled over and retched, only producing bile due to his empty stomach. Falling to his knees, Zayn wiped the sheen of sweat that had formed on his forehead. The sun had completely risen now. The night had slipped through his fingers, taking his best friend with it.

 

Zayn never spoke to Harry again. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried to – he had. But when he called Harry’s phone, it always went straight to voicemail. When he went to Harry’s flat, there was nobody around. He had even tried asking Louis if he knew were Harry was. But Louis had simply cast his sheepish gaze downwards as he informed Zayn that Harry had left and wouldn’t say where to or when/if he’d be back. So, Zayn decided to try something else. He was going to pour his soul out in a song. It was something Harry had always told him to do ( _it’s okay to feel, Zayn. Sharing how you feel doesn’t make you weaker._ ). And as much as it hurt to admit to himself that he had lost Harry as a result of his own stupidity, he had to do it. Every single line in the song was like a stab to his heart. Yet he persisted. And after six months, he had completed it. *

 

_Lights go_

_Down and_

_The night is calling to me, yeah…_

_Right now,_

_I wish you were here with me._

_Cuz right now,_

_Everything is new to me_

_You know I can't fight the feeling_

_And every night I feel it_

_Right now,_

_I wish you were here with me._

 

Zayn sat on the edge of the stage with a half empty bottle of vodka in his hand. His performance had ended almost an hour ago. Singing the song had dredged all the painful memories that Zayn didn’t want to remember so he was trying to drown them in alcohol. It wasn’t working.

 

Just then, Zayn heard the sound of the door open and heels against the old, wooden floor. He wiped furiously at the tears on his cheeks and held his head in his hand to hide his face.

“Hey.”

That voice. That voice was unmistakeable to Zayn. He could recognise that voice in his sleep.

 

Zayn’s head snapped up. There he was. He looked different from the last time Zayn saw him, six months ago. His hair was shorter, still curly, but styled up into a quiff. He seemed to have grown taller, his long legs accentuated by the tightness of his ripped, black jeans. His shirt was also black. In fact, the only part of his outfit that wasn’t black was his brown boots. It was a stark contrast from the blazers and chinos Zayn remembered him in. But his eyes definitely hadn’t changed. They were still the same bright green they had always been. His gaze was nervous, hesitant but adventurous. And it resonated within Zayn.

“Hi.” Zayn stood up, a little shakily, and placed down the bottle on the stage.

“Good song,” Harry continued, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Zayn couldn’t contain his words any longer.

“I’m sorry for everything! I should’ve known earlier but I didn’t realise it soon enough. I only realised when I got home that night and I ran back to the meadow but you were already gone. I called as well. I called over and over but it always went straight to voicemail and I even came looking for you at your flat but you weren’t there so I asked Louis and he said you’d left but he didn’t know where you’d gone or when you’d be back if you even come back at all and–”

“Zayn!” Harry gripped Zayn’s shoulders and shook him gently, shutting him up. His hands slid up to cup Zayn’s face. “Realise what?”

Zayn stared into the emerald green eyes, inches from his own and this time he didn’t miss it – the nervous anticipation that always came with Harry.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered truthfully. Relief washed over Harry’s features and he brought their lips together for the second time in their lives. Except, this time, Zayn was ready. He slipped his hands around Harry’s neck and into his curls. He could feel the goosebumps on his skin as he deepened the kiss. He could feel himself going lightheaded from the rush. And he smiled into the kiss and murmured,

“You’re my adventure.”

**Author's Note:**

> There's an alternate version - the original version - of this in which I would have to include the archive warning "Major Character Death" but I felt y'all would hate me for that so I did this instead. But the other one's more ~artistically beautiful~ so I guess I'll post that later. Maybe.


End file.
